


Corner of Your Heart

by Catieee



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mrs. Hudson Ships It, POV Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock-centric, Tumblr: otpprompts, smol and sad sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:18:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5239535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catieee/pseuds/Catieee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a drabble made from otpprompts</p><p>Post reichenbach--Sherlock comes back to 221B after years of being gone, what awaits him there?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corner of Your Heart

It had been 5 years since Sherlock set foot on the doorstep of 221b Baker Street. He had been quite fond of the bustle of the streets below his and John’s flat, it helped him retreat to his mind palace. He turned the knob to enter the building but found it to be locked. _That’s odd_ , he thought to himself, _Ms. Hudson never keeps the door locked. Hmm._ He settled for the doorbell instead.

He observed the surroundings around him as he waited for the door. It had just began to snow. He watched as flakes began to fall and stick to the concrete, creating a light blanket on the ground. He rubbed his hands together and shoved them deeper into his pockets, trying to keep them warm.

He felt his heart race a little more each passing second, he was eager to see Ms. Hudson and John after his long absence. He thought of Ms. Hudson fondly from time to time while he was away, but he pushed John into a little locked box in the back of his mind. It was too painful to Sherlock to not have John beside him, so he pushed him into the corner of his mind and stayed far away from the thoughts threatening to ruin him. The soft spot he had for John grew every second and he felt it consuming every piece of him and burning down his energy. It was hard to not think of him and the empty spot grew more and more cavernous within him.

The door opened slowly with a creak, Ms. Hudson hadn’t changed a bit other than looking a little grey. She looked up at Sherlock and blinked a few times; her face was void of any expression, but her eyes told him how weary she was.

“Is it really you, Sherlock, or is this just another dream?” She said in a fixed, hypnagogic state.

“I thought it was time for me to come home.” He replied.

With those words Ms. Hudson’s eyes began to sparkle with tears. Sherlock put his hand on her cheek tenderly and gave her a little smile. This little sign of affection affirmed to her that he was real and he was not dead and he was here on her doorstep once again. Sherlock wiped a fleeting tear off of her cheek with his thumb.

“--All this snivelling! Well, you know how I am.” She took her hands and wiped them on her dress, “I’ve missed you, Sherlock, things aren’t the same without you living here. Won’t you come in for tea?”

“Yes, that does sound good to me.”

Ms. Hudson knew it was a touchy subject and she would never ask why Sherlock faked his own death. She was curious though, did he get into some big trouble and needed to disappear? How deep was he that he couldn’t tell John, his best friend? Ms. Hudson always hoped somewhere within her that maybe Sherlock was alive. It didn’t matter that he up and disappeared anymore, she was just glad to have him here safe and warm.

Ms. Hudson unlocked her flat and walked in, whereas Sherlock crept past her up the stairs to his and John’s old flat. He saw the dust that had collected on the knob, and he knew nobody had been up here in at least a year. John must have moved out but that was to be expected.

The stairs creaked as he walked back down and into Ms. Hudson’s flat. She had already sat down in the living room with a tray of crackers and biscuits to go with the drinks. Sherlock sat across from her and picked up the steaming hot cup of tea and took a sip.

“So, how long ago did John moveout?” Sherlock said casually trying not to give way to his sadness.

“Oh, you saw that? Well, he moved out about 2 years ago, I think… I don’t rent out that flat anymore, didn’t feel right to me. Now I just use it for storage mostly.”

Sherlock took another sip of his tea, “So where is John living now?” It was silent for a few moments and he saw that Ms. Hudson hunched her shoulders in and bowed her head down. Sherlock could hear her sniffling to herself, he paused and said quietly “Is he dead?”

Ms. Hudson brought her head up, and her face was splotchy and he mascara was running lightly down her cheek, “Oh, Sherlock.”

This confirmed his worst fear and Sherlock tightened his jaw  and through clenched teeth said, “When?” Ms. Hudson started to sob quietly to herself. She just kept staring at him with sad eyes and felt his anger growing and growing as she kept sobbing “ **WHEN, MS. HUDSON, WHEN?** ” Sherlock roared at her. She shrunk

back into the couch and Sherlock came and grabbed her shoulders gently. She looked him in the eyes and found pain deeply rooted beyond his stoic nature.

“After you left,” Her voice began to crack, “Uh, John moved out because he enlisted back into the army. He worked as army doctor, what an honourable thing to do. His, uh, his…” Ms. Hudson let out a sob, “His tent was bombed and....” Ms. Hudson couldn’t continue on and her cries out.

Sherlock put down his cup and without a word exited the apartment. He could hear Ms. Hudson sobbing his name behind him, but he kept walking. Ms. Hudson had never seen him cry and now she wouldn’t ever have to. John would never know that Sherlock was alive and the last time he saw Sherlock was as he jumped from the top of St. Bart’s and fell from grace.

The snowflakes clung to Sherlock’s curls as he briskly walked down Baker street. He crammed John back into the depths of his mind. There would never be anything but sorrow to fill the emptiness within Sherlock. Now he would only exist in the corner of Sherlock’s heart.

John did his grieving and now Sherlock could do his. 


End file.
